


don't let the dead bite

by Ariesgirl666



Category: American Horror Story: Hotel, Jennifer's Body (2009)
Genre: Bisexual Character, Blood, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, F/F, F/M, Iris is so done with her job, March is horny as fuck, Messed-up final girls, Needy has a thing for girls who drink blood ig, Needy's a biter, Needy's in her mid-twenties, Nobody's okay, Post-Canon for Jennifer's Body, Pre-Canon for AHS Hotel, Smut, Toxic Relationships, everyone in the cortez is bi and that's just a fact, half-demon!Needy, kinda blood kink, so needy fits right in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:36:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariesgirl666/pseuds/Ariesgirl666
Summary: Needy blinks and then he’s halfway across the room again, examining Geoffrey’s corpse. “I’ve never seen bites like this before. They aren’t quite human in origin, are you?”“What kind of sick fuck are you?” Needy asks, not expecting an answer. James Patrick March smiles at her, and it’s all teeth. “Why my dear, I’m the original.”Or -Needy needs a place to lie low after murdering the band, and she's in Los Angeles anyway...





	don't let the dead bite

“Nice place you have here,” the young woman comments after she struts her way up to the front desk. Her eyes are pale and sharp, and she’s old-movie-star beautiful. Iris doesn’t like her from the beginning. She looks like a tramp.

“You want a room or not?”  
“Yeah, sure.” The girl digs out some crumpled, bloodstained dollar bills and drops them on the counter.“How many nights does this get me?”  
Iris counts the money and checks it for counterfeit, of which she finds none. “You gave me five thousand dollars.”

“Yeah.”  
“You can stay as long as you like, sweetheart.” Iris reaches for _that_ key. “Sign into the guest book. I’ll take you up to Room 64.”

Iris reads upside-down as the gorgeous woman writes _Anita Lesnicki_ in the guest book. She doesn’t seem to notice all the names in the book with no exit date.

“Well?” Anita, or whatever her name, says, shouldering a gray duffel bag.

Iris plasters on a fake-feeling smile. “Right this way.”

 

Needy quietly takes in the claustrophobic feeling of the hallways.

“I’m staying in LA for a few weeks,” Needy says. The bellhop doesn’t respond, letting Needy’s words fester like an open wound. “I’m from a small town,” she explains, “So I’ve never seen a place quite like your city.”  
“Don’t hear that a lot,” the woman mutters, and unlocks a door marked 64. “There you go. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“What’s your WiFi password?”

“We don’t have that.” She makes no attempt to hide her eyeroll at Needy’s disgust.

“Have a good night, then.”  
“Thanks,” Needy mutters, and shuts the door behind her. “Sour old cunt,” she enjoys the way the swear rolls off her tongue. Her phone buzzes with a text:

_Geoffrey -cortez u said_

_Anita -yeah, u here?_

_Geoffrey -downstairs. creepy_

_Anita -ur such a baby. come upstairs. rm 64._

She draws out changing longer than she has to -in part because she feels _something_ watching her from the shadows and wants to give the little pervert a show -as she slides off her sweats and peels off the prison uniform underneath to reveal scarred white skin. Needy pulls on a tight red strapless dress she’d stolen from a store in LA, one that shows the green-tinged scar on the back of her shoulder that tingles with phantom pain.

“This is it, Jen,” she whispers to herself. “Five down, and one more to go.”

There’s a knock on the door and when Needy opens it, she’s already lowering her eyes sultry-like and stepping back to allow Low Shoulder’s backup drummer in.

“You look hot,” he says, and Needy tries not to roll her eyes. “Just take your clothes off.”

She gets impatient when he’s halfway through his shirt buttons, and kills him then -slamming him against a wall and ripping his throat out with her teeth. The feeling of blood is warm and wet as it sloshes and dribbles out the sides of her mouth.

“And here I thought this was _my_ room to murder people in.”

Needy whirls, startled, fists raised. The apparition of a man in a vintage-type suit tips his hat at her. “Well aren’t you curious,” he says in a Braham drawl.

“You’re the one who’s been watching me,” Needy says. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and it comes away wet. “What do you want?”

“Only to introduce myself, my dear. My name is James Patrick March.” He waits expectantly, and Needy crosses her arms. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

His eyes bely far too much intelligence. “What sort of backwater town coughed you up, girl?”

“My name is _Anita_ , and I’m from Devil’s Kettle. Not that anyone knows where that is.”

“Founded after my time, I expect.” He makes a grand gesture. “This is my hotel, Miss…”  
She doesn’t give him a name, but he seems hardly deterred.

“So you’re a ghost.”

His cool hand brushes her cheek. “Of sorts,” he murmurs. Needy blinks and then he’s halfway across the room again, examining Geoffrey’s corpse. “I’ve never seen bites like this before. They aren’t quite human in origin, are you?”  
“What kind of sick fuck are you?” Needy asks, not expecting an answer. James Patrick March smiles at her, and it’s all teeth. “Why my dear, I’m the _original_.”

 

Needy spends most of the night awake -she hasn’t really needed sleep since the Bite, and making use of her shitty Internet connection to google James P. March. The results are terrifying, even for someone who’s been through what she has.

 

He finds her sprawled on top of the covers after a long night of getting rid of a body, half asleep with her phone falling out of her hands. She almost reminds him of Elizabeth, what with her large eyes and full lips and long pale hair. He takes the phone from her hands, but it’s black and he doesn’t know how to use one of those anyway, so he tosses it carelessly behind him.

The noise wakes her up, and she’s flipped him on his back with one hand on his throat and her legs pinning his to the mattress before she’s even fully awake.

“Impressive,” he rasps, his throat straining against her hand, and he sees her hazel eyes widen.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demands, not loosening her grip. She’s superhumanly strong, and he could use his ghost powers to reappear behind her but why would he do that? After all, he’s already getting hard against her thigh.

“What _are_ you?” he marvels in reply, and she scowls.

“You wanna know what I am, fuckrag? Look closely.” She uses her free hand to rip the sleeve of her tshirt, exposing the same green-tinted, jaggedy scar he saw their first meeting.  
“I got bit by my -by a fucking _demon_ , okay? I killed h - _it_ -and I absorbed its powers. I don’t know what I am. I’m Needy - _Anita_ ,” she corrects herself, shaking her head. Her hair looks like sheets of ice. (He killed a poet, once.)

“Are you going to let me up?” he asks her, as conversationally as he can with his air cut off -he doesn’t _need_ it to live but it’s discomfitting regardless. She raises one eyebrow and glances down at his hard-on. “Do you _want_ me to?”

 

So that’s how the fallen final girl ends up having impressively violent sex with a dead man, the sort of thing that’s going to leave them both with lasting scars. Her back arches like the cursive loop of a _g_ and he murmurs meaningless compliments into her hair to make her purr. He bites through her lip when he comes and she tore a strip of flesh off his ribs with her teeth in beautiful retaliation.

 

They lay there, both breathing heavily. He thinks, _that’s the best sex I’ve had since Elizabeth_ and she thinks, _since Jennifer_.

He rolls onto his stomach and says with practiced aloofness, “So, tell me about your one true love.”  
She scoffs, but soon he’s got her talking about her little boyfriend, and then her precious _Jennifer_. He doesn’t have to, but he returns the favor and talks about his first meeting with Elizabeth, and all the ones after.   
“You kept them inside the wall?” Needy - _Anita_ -whispers, eyes wide and he smiles, wide and pleased and predatory. “I’ve found something that terrifies you after all,” he tells her softly and she blurts out without meaning to -“I’m claustrophobic.” and bites her lip, wishing she could take it back.  
“There are a lot of spirits inside these walls,” he says with his teeth, his hand on the small of her pale back, and he delights in her shiver. “I put them there.”  
“You’re a monster,” she breathes, and she sounds _aroused_.

He says around a smile, “You flatter me, Anita.”

He says her name like it’s a sacrament and she spits his like a curse.

 

A few days later, he finds her in Elizabeth’s bed, blood on her smirking lips and white-blond hair ribboned out on the maroon pillow, and when she asks him if they were _exclusive_ , her cruel smile seeks to draw blood.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Dead Bite" by Hollywood Undead


End file.
